


Clarity

by beeswaxing



Series: Trophy Wife [16]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12520744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: It takes a massive blowup with ripples of repercussions for Changmin to finally gain a clear understanding of exactly how much his husband loves him. A man of grand gestures is at odds with a man more comfortable with showing his love in small ways, but surely both are intelligent enough to realize that they will need to meet each other half way.





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> This immediately follows Baseball so you must read that first otherwise this will just be confusing for you. Baseball is the oneshot immediately before this one in the series :)

 

The game ends within the hour, the rain delay lengthening the already lengthy game. As if given an impetus of some sort, the LG Twins inject more life into their playing, perhaps determined to remind the spectators that they are there for them and not the canoodling couple in the stands. The ever-popular Kiss Cam goes around the baseball grounds as usual, but it is merely a farce that day because everyone knows exactly where they want it to land. One of the earlier couples started the trend, they happened to be seated a few rows behind the CEO and his wife, and when the camera landed on them, both immediately shook their heads and pointed down. The camera obliges, moving down as instructed, landing on the already kissing couple, eliciting a roar from the crowd.

This repeats several times and each time, the pair in question invariably point towards the Jung couple in whatever direction they happen to be in from where they are seated. By the third time it happens, whoever is manning the Kiss Cam gives up and gives everyone what they want.

Jung Yunho and his wife necking like a pair of ungovernable teenagers.

Well, the description is apt for one of them at least.

Teenager? That is a fact.

Ungovernable? That was never a question anyone would ask about the wife of Jung Yunho. The man whom through sheer discipline, a lot of hard work, and a business acuity that is envied for it is both conservative enough to appeal to the older chaebols, yet innovative enough to attract the attention and adoration of the growing pool of young, tech-savvy entrepreneurs, has risen through the ranks in a very short number of years by the average person’s standards, to sit with those at the very top of the food chain.

A name that resonates and is synonymous with the highest expectations of professional behavior, respect, and work ethic, has just been dealt a blow that is gleefully being repeated around the country and beyond.

The men he calls peers include the who’s who of the South Korean elite. And it is these very same peers (and their children) who are now enjoying themselves at his expense. They are only human, and it is a failing of the species to enjoy someone else’s misfortune or in this case, downfall from the highest of pedestals.

_”I guess we know who wears the pants in that relationship.”_

_“Didn’t he say his wife always comes first? He’s probably lucky to even get any when he wants it.”_

_“He probably has him by the nuts.”_

_“Think about it though. What is that model bitch doing to have the great Jung Yunho so tied up in knots to this extent? I don’t swing their way, but he must be one hell of a fuck for a man like Yunho to allow such monstrous disrespect to go unpunished.”_

_“Maybe he’s just keeping up appearances for the babies? That brat is expecting twins.”_

_“This is a man who wouldn’t even let Micky Park rest on his billions of dollars worth of inherited laurels, and you’re telling me he is going to let his wife make him the laughingstock of the country?”_

_“He’s too busy sucking face with the gold digging whore to know that.”_

_“Oh, Ara.”_

—

Changmin is feeling warm and very loved. His team won the game, his husband loves him, and his daughters have stopped kicking him with a vengeance, their movements now and again merely comforting nudges that make Yunho smile when he feels it against his palm resting lightly on his bare belly.

They are in the town car on the way back, and he is seated lengthwise on the back seat, legs across his husband’s lap while the man caresses his curves. The trench coat is long undone, exposing smooth tanned skin as far as the eye can see, but Yunho appears more interested in his phone than his wife at present. The teenager does not give it much thought, well aware that he has pulled Yunho from his important negotiations, and his husband needs to catch up.

Yunho is catching up all right, and it takes a conscious effort for him to keep his expression clear of his thoughts.

**_We didn’t make our flight because Jaejoong started getting pains. We’re at the hospital now but will be leaving soon because apparently it was nothing but indigestion and Braxton Hicks. He’s berating me for getting him those mangosteens now because that was the only strange thing he ate in the last twenty-four hours. I can’t win with him. Everything is bloody my fault. He’s damn lucky I love him._ **

**_And speaking of love, I hope you love Changmin more than your business partners because I’ve been bombarded with calls and messages asking me if I watched the Twins game. So many fucking “well-wishers” offering their sympathy and what not. I don’t actually know what happened, but judging from their insinuations, I’m guessing Changmin lost it or something on live television? Jae’s too busy whining and crying at me to care about anything else at the moment, but I can only keep him isolated for so long. I’ve turned his phone off and he hasn’t realized it yet, but if the messages I’ve been getting are anything to go by, our roof is not going to be big enough to keep Jae’s anger in. He takes anything against Changmin quite personally, and he’ll probably go on the warpath with every single one of my business partners and somehow figure out some way to blame this on you too, so fair warning my friend. I’ll diffuse it as best as I can, but he’s too beautiful when furious with his chubby cheeks huffing and puffing and doing his best impression of an indignant bowling ball. He’s so cute!_ **

Micky’s message had been long and Yunho had to read it twice because his friend has started rambling almost as bad as his wife. Their messages used to be short and to the point, and now he is getting messages about Jaejoong being a cute bowling ball.

That was only one of the messages from his frequent contacts. He reads several more.

**_Heechul - Oh my, Jung. What ever will you do now? ^_-_ **

**_Kangin - How’s the jaw? Does he take boxing lessons or something because that was a sweet hit. I don’t have to ask about your mouth since it was plenty busy as far as I could see hah! I’ve told everyone who will listen that pregnant wives are a handful. Teukie said to tell you that Changmin is welcome to visit and talk if he needs a sympathetic ear. He also told me to remind you that your jealousy drove him away once, and he knows Changmin’s behavior is too much to allow him to get away with, but that he’s still a teenager and asks for your understanding._ **

**_Jiyong - Let me know if you need anything. I’ve called your PR team, and they’re preparing a statement right now. My wife wants you to call her if you want to say anything in particular. I trust Chaerin’s judgment, but this is very personal and she thinks it would be good if you had some input. Speak soon._ **

**_Yesung - My Wookie is pregnant and cries all the time. All the damn time. I’d rather be punched than have to deal with someone who cries because the sun is shining. However, I love him and I know you love your wife. I think reminding everyone of this fact will be a help. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but what I’ve heard so far is pretty bad. It’s not even about the punch anymore but the kissing at the game made it worse because now they think you bend to your wife when you’re known for being intolerant of disrespect of any kind. I’m shooting down the more ridiculous comments and reminding people that Changmin is your wife and not someone you work with, but speaking as your friend and mentor, I do think you need to say something._ **

**_Han Geng - Ignore my wife if he contacts you. He’s been laughing off and on for the last hour and it’s at your expense, my friend. His reaction is unfortunately similar to a lot of others. I’m in Shanghai right now and I’ve had no less than ten calls about this, most of which were to tell me that they thought Chullie was bad, but Changmin is far worse. I sent them packing and told them I’m not interested in gossiping and they should find better things to do. That will be my stance to anyone who asks about this. You have my support, and I’ve had years of practice with dealing with an impossible wife and I encourage you to utilize my knowledge. Take care._ **

He does not bother with the ones not on his frequent contacts list, ignoring the numbers as they grow steadily even as he reads all the other messages.

30…40…

It stops briefly at 55 after reading Han Geng’s message, but it was a respite for a few seconds, because the number starts to go up even as he stares at his phone.

He drops it in his lap, tilting his head back and lifting his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Is something wrong?”

Yunho debates whether to tell his wife. Opening his eyes and turning to look at the teenager, he is met by soft curious eyes, Changmin’s body language so thoroughly relaxed. His guard is down and his concern for Yunho shows in his face.

The Jung mogul decides against it, making a promise to himself that he will tell his wife before the day is out, but he will pick a better time than right now. He will not lie to the teenager though.

“Yes, but I will deal with it later.”

“Do you have to return to the office?” Changmin’s expression wavers, and he unconsciously lifts his hand to place it over Yunho’s on his belly.

Yunho shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere but home with you.”

Changmin can feel the heat in his cheeks, and he moves his hand, linking their fingers and resting them comfortably at the crest of his belly. He hums, a smile curving his generous mouth, saying nothing.

—

The teenager does not notice the surreptitious glances thrown their way as the driver drops them off at the entrance to their building. The doorman bows stiffly, eyes showing his disapproval, though a simple look from Yunho makes him take a step back, schooling his features into something more professional.

He is hand in hand with his husband, turning to lean into the older man in the empty lift, pressing Yunho against the back wall before the doors even manage to shut on them.

The reception area has a direct view into the carriage, and two pairs of eyes are watching like a hawk, taking in the fact that the shameless pregnant wife of Jung Yunho has just used his free hand to tug his trench coat loose, the belt dangling just as the doors shut on them.

“It must be the sex.”

The two females exchange glances, one of them shrugging. “It’s their business.”

“Don’t you wonder?”

“Not really. They’re just another couple.”

“But he’s Jung Yunho.”

“And he’s Jung Changmin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” the married mother of two replies patiently to her much younger counterpart, “that it’s their marriage and their business. Couples fight, and couples make up. Those two fight a lot, and they always make up.”

“Not like this though.”

“True,” she admits, for the only times she knows they have been fighting is usually due to the unhappiness in Changmin’s face and the fact that he does not walk as close to his husband as he normally does. Other than that, no indication of anything else. She remembers a time when Yunho had returned to the apartment building wearing a bruise on his jaw and a split lip, but his wife was nowhere in sight then. In fact, she did not see Changmin for a whole month after that. However, their return together was as an amicable couple and even triumphant in some regard, for young Changmin had returned with the glow of pregnancy very pronounced, and a decided curve to his body that wasn’t fully obvious previously. Yunho had been unable to keep his hands off his wife, and she remembers smiling at the couple as they walked past, looking for all the world like they were in love.

Something not many people believe of the pair.

Not even her starry eyed colleague who is still reading romance novels, and now glaring belligerently in the direction of the private lift that is taking its occupants to their home.

She was “shipping” the couple before one fine day when Changmin had actually come down to reprimand her for keeping his husband’s guests waiting in the lobby while she dealt with something or other before calling up to the penthouse to inform them of the arrival and sending the guests along up. Every inch the cool, haughty trophy wife, Changmin had explained to her in no uncertain terms that no one is _ever_ to be kept waiting while she waits for her nails to dry. That was an unkind observation on the supermodel’s part, for she was doing her nails at the time, the smeared polish on a few nails bearing witness to that, but that was not the reason why she had not called up.

Whatever it is, Changmin did not make a friend that day for he had been uncaring about the fact that there were several people within hearing distance of the very embarrassed receptionist. A total juxtaposition to his husband who had walked his guests out later and complimented her hair.

After what the younger girl perceives as absolute disrespect to a husband that has been nothing but kind, her position on what happened at the baseball game was always a given.

On the other hand, as a wife and mother, she knows that the only thing on Changmin’s mind that day was the fact that his husband’s guests had been inconvenienced unnecessarily and that it will reflect poorly. She has no idea how the teenager reconciles such thoughts with his behavior that day, but she has a feeling that Yunho understands about teenagers and pregnancies a lot more than people give him credit for, and most importantly, something that no one ever credits, the businessman is genuinely in love with his tempestuous wife.

It is the only explanation for a man with such consequence, in a country that is still fairly conservative and where hierarchical respect is paid its due, to have brushed off such disrespect and shown his support of his wife by their uncommon public display of affection afterwards.

He must know what people are saying, but he probably cares more about the one person that matters the most in the whole unfortunate debacle.

—

Yunho kisses his wife’s temple before excusing himself to send a couple of emails first.

Changmin had expected this, and simply squeezes his husband’s hand in understanding before they go their separate ways; Yunho to his study, Changmin to the bedroom.

The teenager had spent most of the car ride in pleasurable contemplation of the debauchery that awaits him. Yunho’s preference for waiting till they got home before having sex is a promise that Changmin’s body is fully tuned to. Nursing a semi hard-on during most of the game and the car ride home, he is more than ready to get going. The teenager is however learning to be patient. He can afford to be patient considering how much patience Yunho has accorded him in their almost two years of marriage. Sometimes he just pushes for the hell of it, and he acknowledges ruefully that no matter how mature he wants to believe of himself, he still has a lot to learn. His teenage years will be behind him in less than a fortnight and perhaps it’s time he looks truly and honestly within himself and his behavior and reactions to Yunho, and figure out how to be the perfect wife Yunho wanted.

All the outward perfection of the past is marred by his behavior to his husband in private. Yunho’s admission of the fact that he questions Changmin’s love for him every day had caused him to pull himself up short. His intention was never to make Yunho question it, but rather some strange need to assert his will on the much older man as if to remind the man that while he did “buy” Changmin, he cannot actually be bought.

Of all the stupid notions.

Changmin makes a disgusted sound, detouring to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He definitely has a lot to think about.

—

“What were you planning on saying?”

“Changmin-ssi’s behavior was due to the hormones—“

“Chaerin,” Yunho sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “You know as well as I do that Changmin is always like this.”

“Yes,” the Head of PR replies, “but no one else needs to know that. Heck,” she reverts to a more informal tone, having been friends with the Jung CEO longer than even her husband, “I wouldn’t have known that either if I didn’t walk in on you two in your office. Soundproof has its pros and cons.”

“Knocking is what most people do, Chae.”

“I doubt either of you would have heard me anyway.”

“Fair enough,” he acknowledges, before leaning back deeply into his plush leather chair. “Now come on and come up with something better than that. I am not feeding my wife to the wolves and allowing people to talk about and dissect his mental or emotional state.”

“You have to. He will weather this better than you. You have—“

“No.”

Chaerin sighs, expecting this. “Fine. Then you two will need to hold a press conference of some sort. Release a joint statement together _and he needs to apologize for his behavior_.” Her tone means business, and she is not expecting any argument on the matter. East Asia is very unforgiving when it comes to disrespect of any type, and her friend and boss is one of the biggest advocates. To do an about turn because of his wife is not just uncharacteristic, it will cause more problems than it will solve, and potentially lead to confusion and uncertainty. Yunho has always been one thing and one thing only, and to justify a change of this magnitude requires one hell of a grand gesture.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Three beats of silence, before Chaerin speaks. “If he isn’t willing, and you won’t insist, then admitting that you love him, and making it as clear as day, would help explain most of this away. The wives will be on your side, and no matter what anyone says or believes, everyone’s home life is most assuredly influenced by their spouses. An unhappy wife is an unhappy life, and most should sympathize with you. Changmin will get some hate though, and that is impossible to deflect because even if the wives sympathize, they know and understand the difference between the public and private spheres. We are a passionate people, but we do not like losing face, and in the eyes of everyone, Changmin has caused irreparable damage to your reputation. This will help, but it will not sway everyone.”

“Love solves everything?” Yunho’s tone is vaguely mocking as he contemplates her words.

“Of course not, but it gives people a reason. Whether they believe it or not is up to them, but as long as both of you project a united front, they have no choice but to accept it eventually.” She pauses. “You know, this would’ve been easier had both of you returned to the game looking like you’d actually had a fight. Your displeasure with his behavior, and him sitting contrite next to you would’ve helped show that you still don’t condone such antics. This wouldn’t have blown up to such an extent had that been the case, because your peers will know that you had dealt with your wife in private like you should have. A lot of the talk that I’ve heard are various allusions that the great Jung Yunho bends over for his wife and not the other way round, figuratively or otherwise. In fact, it doesn’t even matter because perception is everything.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“People are disgusting, and you know it. I know you’re intelligent enough to know that this is exactly what they will be thinking. What I’m wondering about is why on earth didn’t you do anything to mitigate it.”

Yunho closes his eyes, remembering Changmin clinging to him, shaking and whimpering, gasping for breath, pain reflected in his wet chocolate eyes.

He remembers his wife’s admissions of insecurity, gentle kisses, and his quiet release in the car.

And his exuberance and glee at giving the spectators a show.

His wife is only nineteen.

“I had other things on my mind.”

“Like your wife?”

“Like my wife.”

“Can you see the problem?”

“Can’t a man be turned for his wife?”

“Not a man like you.”

“I love him.”

Chaerin sucks in a breath, but she knows Yunho hears because of his warm chuckle in her ear, and she cannot help but smile.

“You suggested a solution, thinking you’d have to spin in because it might be a lie?”

“I had a wee bit of doubt,” she admits.

“Love it is. Do what you need to do and I will protect my wife.”

“You cannot keep him wrapped in cotton.”

“I won’t, but I will not sit back either if it gets too much.”

“Fair enough.”

“Thanks, CL,” calling his Head of PR by the nickname she had carried all through college and beyond with select friends.

“Trophy wives are meant to be seen and not heard,” she reminds him, teasing lightly. “And they definitely do not punch their husbands in public.”

“They do when they love them.”

—

He is a teenager, and his thoughts are pretty much on one track and one track only. The coolness of his drink, the condensation dripping down to his overheated skin reminds him exactly of what is waiting for him. The urge to detour to the study is rather strong, but Changmin resolutely ignores the inclination, shrugging out of his husband’s trench coat instead, folding it over his arm and continuing on their bedroom.

The apartment is cool, kept that way even in the autumn weather because he gets too warm otherwise. The tickles of cold air from the inconspicuous ceiling vents caress his warm body, nipples puckering and responding to the whisper of a touch. He makes a beeline for their walk-in closet, hanging up the coat, and relieving himself of his jeans.

Naked and wondering what to do in the meantime, his brain already conjuring the best way to greet his husband when the man finally comes looking for him, he wanders back out.

The sight of the bed, so pristine having been made so meticulously by him that very morning, brings to the fore a mess of images that leave him with his mouth parted and breath catching at the vivid memories that inflame his body and stoke the ambers of desire that were by no means slaked in the car. Cock already at half mast, it raises in attention as the swirls of images come up one after the other. Fucking on a made bed happens often, only tumbling between the sheets when they are done and sated, for even waiting for someone to rip the covers back is often too long for the impatient teenager.

His mind’s eye is absolutely unrelenting, torturing and tantalizing him with everything he has ever done on that bed or more. The various complements to their bed play, whether a simple tie or something more elaborate like a row of butt plugs lined up on the bedside table as his husband seeks to test each and every one in mind blowing succession. His writhing body splayed out on the sheets so wantonly and thoroughly unashamed as he demands his pleasure and eventual gratification. Yunho’s patience in the bedroom cannot be underestimated and likely unrivaled, for this is a man able and willing to tease his wife’s body, playing it for both their pleasures. Whether he allows Changmin to achieve release depends on his mood, but for himself, he normally ever only comes that one time, buried to the hilt in his wife’s quivering, clenching, over-sensitized body. It frustrates Changmin at times, that his husband still manages to maintain such control of himself when he himself unravels at a crook of a finger in the most secret and sacred part of his body. He is by every definition, a power bottom, but it is an equal clash of power for Yunho keeps him in check. Always there to catch him when he falls. His memories are a tangle of tanned bodies that are glistening with the effort of their pleasure.

He takes a deep, slow, controlling breath, determined to slow the tidal wave of lust threatening to crash down on him, wondering if he can blame his hormones, but even as the thought crosses his mind, he brushes it away. He has always been like this with Yunho from their very first meeting. He should not be looking for an excuse to explain away his reaction to his own husband.

It is Yunho who drives him insane with lust.

It is Yunho who makes his insides knot and his knees tremble.

It is Yunho who has schooled him so thoroughly in the art of fucking that Changmin can be nothing but the star pupil.

A star pupil who does not need to hide nor be afraid of the feelings that his husband coaxes from him. Changmin can be honest with himself. He can be honest with his husband.

And besides, before Yunho, most people thought him asexual.

He shuts the door to their closet, leaning against it, not even flinching at the coldness as it meets the back of his body. Eyes on the bed, blind to everything except the memories, he wraps his hand around his now turgid cock and starts a slow and languid pump, doing nothing more than teasing himself further, and wishing for bigger hands around the appendage.

“Starting without me I see.”

He turns, finding Yunho staring at him with hooded eyes, head cocked, caressing his swollen lip with his fingertip. His expression is mild, but his eyes are predatory. They drop down, and Changmin feels heat suffusing his entire body and his cock stiffening even more in reaction when his husband’s eyes trail over his body, saying nothing, continuing to rub at his lip as if in contemplation of what he is beholding.

He sees the very minute furrow in the older man’s brow when his eyes land on his cock jutting proudly from underneath the swell of his body, eyes lingering overlong. Yunho’s thumb joins his finger over his bottom lip, squeezing his split lip.

The teenager’s knees tremble at the sight, but he forces himself not to give in to the urge to push his hips forward in invitation, flushing under the heated gaze of his husband, and he straightens while Yunho makes excruciatingly slow work of his perusal. The urge to shift his weight from one foot to the next is there, as is the urge to cover his nakedness. However, he tamps his urges and remains quite still, with only an eyebrow quirked in query when his husband gets to his bare toes and then moves back up.

Again with the pause at the juncture of his thighs, but this time he moves forward even if his eyes do not leave the invitation beckoning towards him.

He makes short work of the distance between their bedroom door and closet door where Changmin is still leaning again. The former model can feel the goosebumps racing across his body with every step his husband makes that takes him closer, and by the time they are standing toe to toe, his body is so heightened with anticipation that his nipples are hard enough to ache with nothing touching them.

His husband’s eyes finally raise to meet his, and Changmin’s mouth parts instantly, a silent invitation.

An invitation that isn’t taken. Not just yet as husband and wife stare at each other.

Changmin starts to get restless, wondering what the fuck is taking so long, and the knowing look in his husband’s eyes as a devastatingly slow smirk breaks across his mouth has him clenching his ass reflexively. So much for being patient and waiting. He is fit to be tied right now, and there is no way in hell that he will be vocalizing that to Yunho because the last time he was tied up, Changmin came so hard that tears fell.

Yunho cups his wife’s cheek, enjoying the heat and mild irritation that always seems to linger in Changmin’s dark brown eyes. “Are you waiting for a compliment?” he teases, knowing full well that isn’t it.

“Hardly,” Changmin scoffs, knowing well enough that Yunho enjoys his body in its current incarnation and he does not need to be complimented. He turns to press a kiss against Yunho’s palm to soften the blow of his reply, but at the last minute, changing it into a bite instead, nipping hard at the fleshiest part of the man’s large palm.

The mount of Venus.

How apt.

Changmin arches back, pushing his hips and belly forward to gain a measure of relief from the contact. His children are quiet, and he is really fucking thankful for that.

Closing his eyes to the delicious smirk promising him untold pleasures, yet delivering nothing, Changmin gnaws on Yunho’s palm, mentally willing the man to get on with it.

“You are extraordinarily bloodthirsty for one so young,” the older man murmurs, taking a step closer and pressing his clothed body against his wife’s overheated nakedness.

“Imagine what I’d be like when I get to your age.”

“Will we get that far?” Yunho asks quietly, pressing his forehead against his wife’s.

“Yes,” Changmin replies without hesitation, eyes popping open, heat behind them. “You better not fucking die on me, old man. I will follow you to hell.”

“Hell?”

“After today, I’m sure I deserve a stint in there, and you’re almost sixteen years older old man so I’m sure you have a few things to atone for.”

Yunho groans softly, slanting his mouth over his wife’s to silent him.

Changmin parts his lips, relaxing and leaning into the warmth of his husband’s body. There is such a rush of pleasure at the dizzying way Yunho is delving into his mouth over and over, each kiss a promise of more, and he delivers immediately. Delayed gratification is Yunho’s thing, while Changmin is all about the here and the now, and his husband is giving it to him.

The teenager works on his husband’s clothes while Yunho works on his mouth, and between the two of them, they are thoroughly kissed, and thoroughly naked in no time at all.

He takes in the view, smirking at his husband’s large cock ripe with blood, licking his lips and wanting a taste.

However, he knows if he gets a taste, he will want more, and by more, he means Yunho fucking his mouth, and with that will invariably end up with Changmin spraying all over his husband and the older man filling his throat instead of his ass.

The teenager does not want that.

Maybe later for sure but not right now. Right now he wants it hard, fast, and raw.

“I want everything,” Changmin murmurs, wrapping his hand around his husband’s cock as he backs towards the bed, mounting it and pulling his husband with him.

He lays back, fingertips trailing up and down the velvet length as his husband crawls into the bed with him. Teasing the tip, he ignores Yunho’s silent request, speaking his own instead.

“Hard. Very hard. I want you to make me scream.”

“I don’t want to hurt you or our children.”

Changmin’s expression turns vaguely flinty, slapping Yunho’s cock the man letting out a strangled laugh at the pleasurable abuse. “Do you honestly believe that I will put our children at risk for a hard fuck?”

“No—“

“Then what are you waiting for?” Changmin demands, canting his hips up and dropping his knees, thighs spread in invitation. “I’m pregnant, not broken.”

“But—“

“You can control me later,” Chnagmin promises, cutting his husband’s protests off. “Three hours later even. You can tie me up of you want,” he pauses at the telltale flare of Yunho’s nostrils. “Like that, did you?” he smirks. “You can do whatever you want to me later, old man, but right now I really need you to fuck me.”

Yunho groans. “Fine.”

“I knew you’d come round.”

“Don’t I always?” Yunho moves to kneel between his wife’s thighs, running his palms over the expanse of smooth skin. “When do you ever not get your way?”

“Only in the bedroom,” Changmin reminds him.

The older man leans down, capturing his wife’s mouth in a searing kiss.

Changmin’s hands are all over Yunho’s, fisting his hair, tearing down his back, pinching his nipples as he ruts upwards against him while they kiss.

Yunho a tad more disciplined, leans over to his wife’s side one hand strumming and playing a tune over his sensitive body, trying to avoid too much friction because Changmin’s thrusts are making his eyes crossed, he feel of their cocks sliding against each other is heightening his senses and chasing him towards release too quickly because his body already completely aroused at length earlier in the car and at the game after does not need much more to push him over the edge.

“Slow down,” Yunho half groans, pulling back, mouth slick with spit, lips swollen in general that his injury no longer stands out. The pain is still there but so intensely pleasurable as Changmin nips and licks at it that the older man does not mind in the slightest.

“Or what?” the teenager questions breathlessly.

“Or this party might end before it even starts,” Yunho replies half seriously, pressing his full length against his wife’s side, rutting against him, unable to control himself.

“You’re talking too much and not fucking enough,” Changmin complains, trying to tug Yunho back for another kiss. As far as kissing goes, he’d be happy kissing forever. He has no idea why mere kissing makes him feel so alive, but it is like he cannot get enough of his husband’s mouth. He wants to drink him in, absorb him into his body, and just breathe Yunho forever. Sentimental as fuck, and maybe even bordering on emotional, but the teenager does not mind. Yunho loves him, rough, soft, or anything in between.

The man is resistant though, not giving in to his tugs, so Changmin turns on his side instead and frotting their cocks together. He brings both his hands together between their bodies to hold their lengths together and his eyes fall closed, allowing the sensations to wash over him.

“I need to tie you up now,” Yunho decides, hips moving with his wife’s attention.

“Later,” Changmin agrees. “But if you don’t get on with the main event soon, I won’t have just started without you, I’ll finish without you too.”

“We’ll see about that,” Yunho growls, removing his wife’s hands roughly from their cocks and bringing them up to press his wrists against the bed. The feel of metal under his palm gives him pause, and he looks up.

Changmin is wearing nothing but his Hermes bracelet.

The self-satisfied smirk causes Changmin to rolls his eyes and struggle. “You can brand me even more later. Paint me with your cum if you wish, but right the fuck now, I swear to all that is fucking holy and unholy that you better get on with it.”

The older man presses a hard, thorough kiss against his wife’s mouth, and when he senses Changmin really getting into it once again, he pulls back, not at all perturbed by the teenager’s wail of protest.

“If I let you go, will you stay still?”

“Too many questions and not enough fucking,” Changmin replies in reminder instead. Legs moving restlessly on the bed.

Yunho decides to trust his wife, letting go of his hands anyway and lifting his body away for a brief moment.

The teenager toys with the idea of dropping his arms just to see what his husband will do. At the rate the older man is going, he might just need to—

Changmin gasps in shock as a finger presses into him.

Before he can adjust to that, a second quickly follows.

And a third.

_And fourth._

His hips are completely off the bed now, eyes wide in shock and mouth parted, his breath coming in soft staccato gasps, body swaying, feet planted firmly on the bed as Yunho fucks his hole with thoroughly lubricated fingers.

Four fucking fingers.

“Silent now, are we?” Yunho’s smirk is pure devil.

Changmin cannot even form a fuck you. Not even a mental one.

His body is a giant open nerve centered around his middle. His ass is on fire, each stroke bringing a touch of pain, a whole lot of pleasure.

His belly is in flames, focused low and spreading out, licking at him in teasing tendrils that are driving him mad.

His cock is leaking profusely as if trying to produce enough liquid to stave the fire, but all it does is make it worse.

Yunho fights against the urge to pull his fingers out and replacing them with his cock. The heat and tightness, Changmin’s passage squeezing his four fingers together unnaturally, painfully even. His brow furrows in concentration as he works his wife open further, more and more, fingers so slick.

Changmin’s hips begin to stutter, unable to hold himself up, he feels Yunho’s hand cradling his backside, and he lets go, dropping his hips, hands fisted against the covers, eyes still wide and on his husband’s face as if still unable to believe that the man has just stuffed him full without a by your leave.

But this is exactly what he wants.

“Am I hurting you?”

“I want your cock.”

“That’s a no then,” Yunho grins, his features becoming boyish for an instance. “Your body is insane.”

“I know,” Changmin accepts the compliment, before canting his hips again, turning his lust cloudy eyes on his husband.

“Now.”

Yunho rips his fingers free, pulling a scream from his wife which is muffled immediately when he flips the teenager over, facedown into a fluffy pillow.

Predictably, the teenager rears back, indignant, and yet again Yunho silences him as the boy backs straight onto his waiting cock, Yunho guiding Changmin’s ready body into position, and pushing in all the way.

“Fuck…” Changmin groans long and low, dropping his chin, head hanging as he breathes, trying not to tense up. He can feel every fucking inch and then some.

“Set your own pace.”

Changmin doesn’t need to be told twice, breathing through his nose, allowing his body to adjust before arching back against Yunho, body curving like an elegant bow, desperate for his heat.

The position doesn’t allow him to set any pace whatsoever since he’s arched backwards rather uncomfortably while he once again seeks contact with Yunho’s mouth.

They kiss roughly, Yunho pushing into him further and forward till he is finally on his hands and knees.

“No holding back…fuck yourself on me,” Yunho murmurs hotly into Changmin’s ear.

The teen answers with a keening moan and does exactly that, rocking backwards hard and fast, ass bouncing off Yunho’s hips, while his husband watches, the sensations heightened by the view of his cock disappearing over and over again into his wife’s body.

Yunho is vaguely aware of his hands moving of their own accord, taking over the rhythm and tempo his wife is setting.

Not hard enough.

Not fast enough.

His cock needs release.

The coiling, rolling feeling is spreading, setting every inch of his skin aflame as Yunho’s cock batters into him. He doesn’t even notice the control wrested from him, focusing on feeling, and feel he does, body convulsing deliciously with the ferocity of their coupling, exactly the way he likes it - enough pain to stave off the impending orgasm, feeding the pleasure as it continues to build and build and build as his body opens for Yunho’s thick cock.

No dirty words form, Changmin mindless and incoherent and able to do nothing but clutch at the covers and make inarticulate sounds of encouragement. His body is expanding literally and figuratively with each hard thrust, Yunho filling him up in every possible way.

Instead of shying away from allowing his husband to enter him so completely, Changmin lets go.

He lets go of his walls, his masks, and his debilitating insecurities.

He embraces his husband within him.

A desperate need takes hold of him, wanting to see his husband.

The teenager rips his body away before the next heavy thrust, surprising his husband as their bodies separate, Changmin practically flinging himself clear across the bed.

Yunho’s eyes are wild, pupils blown, staring blindly at his wife, not really seeing him, brain trying to catch up with what the fuck just happened.

In turn, Changmin has no fucking clue how he manages it, but he moves to lie on the bed, thighs spread in mute invitation, legs on either side of his husband kneeling in the centre of the bed.

No words are needed.

Yunho’s brain finally comes back, understanding his wife immediately, moving to lift Changmin’s hips slightly, pressing the blunt head of his swollen cock into the already stretched and still clenching hole. Shuddering as his wife’s walls draw him in, his body welcoming the intrusion so completely, he impales his wife to the bed.

“Take me,” Changmin whispers hoarsely.

Seated fully, Yunho bends over, curling around, careful not to press against his belly too hard, Yunho once again starts to thrust.

Changmin wraps his hands around the older man’s shoulders, electricity coursing through his body, moaning and arching into his husband. A few more thrusts in and he lifts both legs to wrap around Yunho to draw him in closer, seeking to immerse every empty space within him with his husband. This forces a change in angle, and in the next instant, the teenager sees stars as his world explodes, coming with a strangled scream.

Yunho stops thinking, mindless now, already so close to his release before his wife moved away, he returns and regains the tempo from earlier before losing it altogether when Changmin comes.

Hot spurts of cum against his abdomen, the tight walls of Changmin’s passage clenching so tightly, painfully that Yunho’s thrusts become jerky, losing his rhythm, spilling himself into his body with a loud groan as the teenager rips his orgasm out of him.

—

Yunho is in the bathroom when the intercom rings.

Groaning because the idea of moving hurts more than moving itself, Changmin doesn’t budge.

The call comes a second time though.

And when it stops, the teen smiles contentedly, wanting nothing more to nap. It’s been three hours since they got in bed, and four orgasms later, he is basically a puddle of contented liquid in the centre of the bed.

The next sound he hears is the doorbell, and the intercom ringing for a third time.

Knowing the two must be related somehow, Changmin rolls over reluctantly and answers.

“I just sent some guests up.”

“Who?”

The girl does not bother to hide her glee.

“Two police officers.”

—

The police officers exchange looks, feeling increasingly awkward.

“Who made the report?”

“There hasn’t been an official report made—“

“Yet.”

The two officers shake their heads in denial. They are beginning to think they are making a huge mistake as they watch the dark eyes of the man before them. Dressed simply in a shirt and neatly pressed pants, yet his swollen lips and lingering musk of pleasures recently taken tells of a very unwelcome interruption. His expression is completely closed off, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stares both of them down, one after the other, back and forth, as if daring the men to do what they came to do.

The wife is seated quietly next to him, a hand in his husband’s lap, flexing on his thigh, dressed in a luxurious looking bathrobe and looking rather mussed, his thick hair sticking out in the back despite his efforts to flatten it, the movement nervous. The teenager is pale, eyes cast down at the coffee table.

Both officers come to the same conclusion as they watch the pair. The call had been anonymous, but the email following the call had contained footage of the alleged abuse. Looking at the couple, they know it was motivated by malice. Jung Yunho’s arm is around his wife’s waist, and his other hand strokes the back of the younger man’s hand that is on his thigh as if trying to reassure him.

Every caress causes the teenager to move a fraction closer.

“Sir, I apologize for wasting your time.”

**ALLEGATIONS OF ABUSE ROCK JUNG CORP**

**POLICE INVESTIGATING DOMESTIC ABUSE ALLEGATIONS**

**THE UGLY UNDERBELLY OF MARRIAGES OF CONVENIENCE**

“Are you insane?”

“Hello to you too,” Changmin replies mildly, eyeing his best friend warily. They are seeking refuge in the Park Mansion for the time being at the invitation of Micky Park Yoochun, for reporters are camped out at their apartment building. It is impossible to get to the front door of the mansion without getting through a security gate and driving up a steep driveway so they are safe for the moment.

Though it seems, Changmin isn’t safe anywhere.

“Don’t fucking say hello to me,” the blond rages, waving his arms as he glares at his best friend. “Have you completely and utterly lost your mind? Do you love your husband so little that you would drag his name through the mud like this?”

Changmin’s mouth drops, absolutely flabbergasted. Making like a gold fish, no words come out as the heavily pregnant ullzang continues his tirade. Confined to the bed, Jaejoong cannot do any physical harm, but he can certainly carve out pieces from the former supermodel’s already thin hide.

“Apologise! I don’t care how you do it, but you are going to do it so help me god, you will not see my baby!”

“Jaejoong!”

“Changmin, I’m fucking serious. I rant, I rave, I do crazy things. I yell at Yoochunnie in public even at times, but my public is his office. Your public is a fucking baseball game broadcast on cable and available _around the motherfucking world_. Has anyone even spoken to you about the magnitude of this? Do you know how much you have shamed your husband? Do you know what people are saying? Do you have a clue?”

Jaejoong’s words are sharp in his anger, and he doesn’t hold back because he knows Changmin. He knows how stubborn his friend is and he knows he needs to hear it. Kindness will not get anywhere, because as far as he can tell, Yunho has been more than kind, and what has his best friend done? Has he raised him so poorly?

And he asks as much.

Changmin can feel the tears pricking his eyes. He doesn’t know because Yunho forbade him from looking it up or speaking to anyone.

“That’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t.” Park Jaejoong’s voice is like iron, matching the implacable demand by one of the two men who have just entered the room. “How did you two get this bad? Have you gone insane too?”

“Jae, don’t love.” Micky shakes his head at his wife, more than aware of Yunho’s growing anger his friend is keeping in check for his sake. “Please apologize to both of them.”

Jaejoong’s furious eyes land on his husband, and he has to shake himself free from the grip of his indignance and his shock at what has come to past. He is sure he has been far angrier with Yoochun more than Changmin has ever been with Yunho, and yet the one thing that always stops him short is that simple fact that he will not shame his husband.

Changmin, the self-purported _perfect_ trophy wife who doesn’t throw tantrums nor kick his husband out of bed nor cause dramatics or theatrics at his office has gone and done all of that and beyond with just a singular thoughtless action.

“I’m sorry,” he finally bites out icily, leaning back against the voluminous pillows propping him up, glaring defiantly at Jung Yunho who acknowledges and accepts his apology with a tilt of his neck, the man probably knowing full well this is the most that Jaejoong will deign to give to him.

He looks over at his best friend, and he can see the tall brunette swaying, his face turned away from his husband, crumpled in misery and shame. Jaejoong’s heart is bigger than his temper and that is saying something.

Their eyes meet, and he opens his arms silently, an apology in his doe eyes.

The teenager does not hesitate, crawling into the bed with his pregnant best friend, laying his head in his lap and pressing his face against the very swollen belly of the smaller man as he starts to sob.

Yunho takes a step forward when he realizes his wife is crying, Changmin’s shoulders shaking, his crying muffled, but he can hear the broken sobs nonetheless.

Micky catches his friend, squeezing his shoulder, a silent request not to interrupt.

Jaejoong forgets their audience, carding his hand through the younger boy’s thick hair, sighing in contrition, feeling the pain and remorse rocking through his best friend. He strokes Changmin’s cheek, thumb slipping between the tightly pressed cheek against his belly and finding the hot tears as the teenager spends himself against him.

His voice is quiet, changing the lyrics of the song as he sings to the bereft teenager.

_Don’t speak as he tries to leave._  
Cause we both know what you’ll choose.  
If he pulls, then you’ll push too deep.  
And you’ll fall right back to him. 

_Cause he is a piece of you, that I wish you didn’t need._  
Chasing relentlessly, still fight and you don’t know why.  
If your love is a tragedy why are you his remedy?  
If your love’s insanity why is he your clarity? 

—

“Are you ok?”

“I’m your wife.”

“That’s not an answer, Changdola.”

Changmin turns fully to look at his husband, eyes meeting and conveying a wealth of words that he does not need to articulate.

Chaerin interrupts just then, breaking their eye contact.

“You two,” she begins, looking the tall couple up and down, “look amazing.”

“My wife dressed me,” Yunho explains.

“It shows,” she nods appreciatively, drinking in the sight of the couple in cool weather clothes. The mild autumn has turned decidedly chilly that day, and they are both dressed for it. The pregnant teenager is wearing a simple black teeshirt that camouflages his belly, but he compliments the weather change with a thick scarf around his neck. The look is completed by a thin leather jacket and stovepipe jeans that scream supermodel at everyone especially if they do not notice the belly.

His husband is dressed a little uncharacteristically, a sweater with bright print underneath a well-cut wool jacket that fits his broad frame to a T. The slimness of Changmin’s shoulders compared to his husband is measured starkly by their outerwear, Yunho’s jacket adding bulk to his already broader frame.

The couple are very striking, and both are wearing warm smiles that reach their eyes. Yunho in particular is styled less severely than he normally is, while his wife looks as put together as ever.

She can only hope they will remain composed. The press con is for them to explain their side, with no questions allowed apart from those already sanctioned by her office.

They had opted for a very early morning stint, in the hope to dissuade the not-so-serious from coming. However, Changmin’s popularity ensures that press room of his husband’s office is packed to overflowing.

Unruffled and looking cooly composed, Changmin’s mask is on.

Chaerin steps forward, tilting her head back for the statuesque model is really very tall. “You have to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Your mask. Both of you need to show that you love each other. I know you’re not used to showing your feelings, but just pretend you’re with your husband and enjoying yourselves at home while you get pesky phone calls.”

Changmin’s eyes have already glazed over at the _enjoying yourselves at home_ bit and his husband knows it, chuckling heartily as he chucks his friend under the chin and tells her not to worry, before leading his wife out to the wolves.

—

The crowd of reporters are a jaded bunch.

Used to celebrities and their ilk lying about anything and everything, they were prepared to be given the same runaround at the Jung press statement event.

Expecting a mechanical and stinted interview, a glowering and defensive Jung Yunho sitting next to his cold and _better seen not heard_ trophy wife and reading from a prepared script, they are surprised from the start.

A beautiful blushing Jung Changmin is coaxed out by his chuckling husband, the amusement of the man apparently directly related to his wife as the teenager turns to hide his heated face, whispering something in his husband’s ear that causes the man to grin widely.

Everyone sits up, trained to look for signs of someone acting.

It begins with Changmin speaking first, introducing himself in a clear voice, smiling for some reason when he says his name, emphasis on _Jung_ which causes a tiny answering smile to tug at his husband’s mouth.

After Jung Yunho introduces himself, the rest of the event flow as planned.

What isn’t planned though are the subtle cues between husband and wife, the way Yunho smiles when his wife answers a question with a question of his own, and the way Changmin moves his seat closer and closer and closer to his husband as the press con progresses. By mid point, the teenager is practically plastered to his husband’s side, and the second Kwon Chaerin calls a halt for a ten minute break, the young man turns to his husband immediately, whispering something or other in his ear, the older man listening intently, giving his wife his complete attention.

There are no insolent remarks, nor anyone daring to ask anything beyond the pre-approved questions. It is clear for everyone to see that the whole drama surrounding the Jung couple has been overhyped bullshit. They are a normal couple who are trying their best while stuck in the public eye. The CEO’s affection for his wife can be seen and accepted by one and all, and the normally cool and aloof supermodel is a pleasure to watch for his every thought and emotion plays across his face easily. The mogul’s encouraging nods when his wife speaks is mirrored in triplicate by his wife when he himself speaks. The more unkind make whispered jokes about _Changmin the Nodding Doll_ but his eyes convey his sincerity always. There are times when everyone feels like they are intruding, for when feeling uncomfortable, the teenager has eyes only for his husband, turning towards the older man and answering by keeping his eyes on him, gestures and touches included.

The small scraps of insecurity that is shown willingly by the former supermodel who takes his strength from his husband, converts even the most cynical of the lot.

“I will not look kindly upon anyone spreading falsehoods about my wife. Consider this your one and only warning.”

“I’m sure I can convince him to look unfavorably on those spreading falsehoods about him as well, so take this as a dual warning,” Changmin interjects smoothly.

Muted chuckles ripple around the room as the press con comes to a close.

**Author's Note:**

> All those Begin Again fan goods are making my muses jump around but that's not a good thing cos it's harder to wrestle them in that state OTL Wish me luck...


End file.
